


But don't worry – I know you don't do volleyball

by marginaliana



Category: I Want To Go Home! - Korman
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-20
Updated: 2008-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-05 22:19:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike and Rudy's first post-camp letters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But don't worry – I know you don't do volleyball

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sociofemme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sociofemme/gifts).



_Dear Rudy,_

That was as far as Mike got before he came up empty on ideas. He scratched the end of the pen against his cheek and sighed. He didn't want to write Rudy just any old letter. He wanted to write something funny, or exciting, or mysterious. Rudy had demonstrated that summer, at length and in great detail, that he was easily bored; somehow they'd become friends anyway. Mike made himself start writing.

_I'm sure you're glad to be home again instead of stuck at Alcatraz. I am, too, although having to share a bathroom with my sister is almost as bad._

Now that Rudy was home with all his other friends, though, would he even care about Mike? Would he just read Mike's letter with that inscrutable, uninterested look on his face, and then throw it in the trash?

But Mike figured the whole letter writing enterprise was worth a shot. After all, Rudy hadn't left camp with his parents when he'd had the chance. He'd stayed, and Mike had kept going along with Rudy's crazy schemes, and surely that meant something.

_Anyway, I'm just writing to ask if you'd want to come visit at the end of August. We always host a party at a lake house my cousin owns, and my parents said I could invite you. There's always a lot of good food and music, and my cousin tries to get everyone to play volleyball (but don't worry – I know you don't do volleyball)._

Mike couldn't really think of anything else to say.

_Of course I'll understand if you can't make it. I hope you're having a fun rest of the summer. I'd love to hear about what you're doing._

Sincerely,  
Mike Webster

With another sigh, Mike addressed the envelope and licked the back of the stamp before attaching it firmly and dropping the whole thing on the table by the door to be mailed. He hoped Rudy would write back.

\-----

A week later, Mike walked to the postbox at the end of the drive and found a pleasant surprise. There, in the pile of mail, was a crisp, white envelope, unsmudged and looking like it had just been written minutes before. It was addressed to him in elegant penmanship, and Mike knew who it was from even before he looked at the return address. He ripped it open.

_Dear Mike,_

I don't do parties. But in your case, I'll make an exception. Send me your phone number and I'll have my mother call to work out the details.

Home is better than Alcatraz (the plumbing, for one thing), but it has my brother in it. Enough said. To drown out his yammering, I've taken up a new hobby. Did you get that replacement guitar? If so, I have an idea.

Your friend,  
Rudy


End file.
